I feel, simultaneously, like a character in a movie from the fifties and a product of the women’s revolution. I am fortunate enough to be able to choose to be at home, alongside my children, baking bread and folding laundry. I thank the generation of women that came before me to enable me to have this choice. I had the opportunity to get an education and I use what I learned to make a better life for my family. It really doesn’t get any better than this.
A few weeks before his 3rd birthday and I am noticing every day the little boy that is emerging from my baby. He still loves his blanket (DeeDee) and his crib. He still loves to be babied by his mama. He still needs me to kiss every bump and scratch and seems to believe in the power of my kiss (“Kiss this mama. It’s better now.”). He still giggles like a baby – where it seems to erupt from his soul. He is still my baby. He will always be my baby; even when he grows too big for my hip; even when he grows taller than me; even when he has children of his own. He’ll be my baby, sleeping peacefully in his crib, with no problems that can’t be cured by his DeeDee and his mama’s kiss.
I just realized today was the last day of summer after reading Bluebirdbaby. On this last day of summer I:
We are preparing our house for the market and so this
weekend Tim refinished wood floors while I spent a lot of time moving stuff,
driving and organizing. The kids spent Saturday with grandparents picking
apples and apparently being angels.
On Sunday our first ever hired babysitter
was a no-show. Despite being disappointed, they did great keeping each other occupied.
Today I took a monster to preschool (aka Miles). He loves to
dress up and anticipate the reaction he’s going to get. Today he said he was
going to scare all of the teachers.
Notice his brother in the background with the devil horns? After some of his antics today, these horns make perfect sense. For as sweet as he is, he sure is bullheaded. Wonder where this comes from?
A rug for our front door was made using the scraps of Good
Folks fabric. It was so satisfying to swap it out for the old
rug that used to be there.
I was surprised by how excited Ben was over the new rug, throwing himself on it. It was actually quite challenging to get a good photo of the rug because every time I focused the camera on it, someone jumped on it.
This bright little rug really brightened my day and breathed fresh life into our front room. The pattern came from Patchwork Style. I often open this book and admire all of the quilts, dreaming that someday I’ll have the patience to actually complete one. In the meantime, however, a patchwork rug was quite satisfying.
Conversation in the van today while driving parallel with a train:
Me (trying to slow down to drive next to it): Why is this train going so slow?
Miles: Maybe it has a heavy load.
Me: Hmm, you’re probably right.
Miles: Why’s it going across that bridge?
Me: So the cars don’t have to stop, also, because that’s where the track goes.
Miles (quoting a lyric of John Prine): Cause that’s the way that the world goes